The radio was soon squawking with entry requests for the blind transports, all of which were making two trips. They were followed closely by cars of military people with enough clearance to know where the facility was, including the four craftsmen who had just remodeled the place.
Colonel Ba-kerga made sure the tape, blackboard photos, and note pads were locked away before anyone opened the door.
Lisa switched off the security lamp.
Heather re-arranged the meeting space for people eating and chatting in small groups.
Generals, colonels, majors, and professors began pouring up the stairs after the security people checked I.D. cards.
As she carried trays of appetizers and drinks to the office counter, Heather felt a moment of sadness that her friend Mandy, her skating buddy Mark, and her mother, whom she hadn’t seen in a month, could not be among them.
Heather stayed in the background, just playing the part of someone’s daughter or granddaughter helping out for the day. She knew there were several different levels of knowledge present in the open-house guests, and had a hunch the interactions between them would be fun to watch.
The team members, with top-secret-umbra and P-Seventeen clearances, all knew who she was and what the newly-remodeled facility was for. Even within the team there was a division, as the military people knew where the
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facility was located, but the university professors did not. Heather sensed no concern over that small issue.
All the military officers not on the team knew that General Bo-seklin had scored something big, and would love to know what it was, but had no intention of risking years in federal prison to find out. They were, however, certainly not going to close their ears if someone let something slip.
The visiting professors were completely in the dark, knowing only that their colleagues advised the military on something top-secret in this newly-remodeled facility. They were very open about their curiosity, and the team professors equally blunt about their inability to answer.
The enlisted craftsmen from the air base were in a class by themselves, knowing Heather was much more than someone’s daughter or granddaughter, but not really knowing what.
Heather listened as Sam and Sarah gave tours, Lisa mingled but stayed near her, and George kept an eye on everything. She hadn’t realized it at the time, weeks before, but her offer to co-exist with safe-house guests had provided the perfect excuse when a social situation required an answer about the purpose of this or that room, but secrecy did not allow an honest one. She overheard Sam use it several times, and Sarah twice.
At five minutes before one o’clock, she finished pouring another tray of punch cups, grabbed her shoulder bag from a corner of the kitchen, and slipped into the clinic’s toilet room.
The music began quietly, a classical piece hardly interrupting anyone’s conversation, the sound softened by coming from the dance studio, through its open door.
The dancer, in a flowing white dress, emerged slowly from the back corridor, almost shyly, dancing just enough to catch the eye, then disappearing again.
The song picked up tempo slightly, and the dancer finally stayed in view, tracing slow, graceful shapes in the air with her slender body and arms, gliding back and forth on the golden hardwood floor along the right side of the large room.
Suddenly the music became bright and urgent, and the dancer leapt onto
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the long section of floor, her feet moving to the faster rhythm, her arms reaching for the ceiling, her hands playing melodies on unseen instruments.
All conversation ceased, food and drinks were set down, and people emerged from the dining room to watch.
Four times the dancer moved gracefully along the golden floor, then leapt and twirled as the music reached its climax.
Mouths hung open, and many eyes sparkled with delight. If asked, they would have sworn the dancer was six feet tall.
She pranced along the floor five more times as the music softened, each time becoming slightly smaller and more delicate.
As the song approached its final notes, the dancer slowly spun herself into a little ball that carefully settled onto the floor, small enough to walk right by and not even notice.
Complete silence filled the room for several long seconds, until someone brought their hands together, and a heartbeat later everyone was clapping with all their might.
Heather had eaten little before the dance, but now, still in her white dress, she filled her plate with enough food to raise eyebrows. Everyone, especially the visiting professors, wanted to sit at the same table with her, but only a lucky few could.
Colonel Ba-kerga had been uncomfortable with the situation, and Heather understood why. In this facility, she shared her memories of the future. Out in the civilian world, she was a dancer and a skater. By dancing in the facility for people not on the team, she risked someone connecting the two.
She had agreed on a compromise with her hard-nosed security chief. If she was Heather on the team, and Priscilla out in the world, she would have no name on this occasion.
It had been easy before the dance — carrying food and drink trays, she had blended right in with the low-ranking security guards. Now, as people pelted her with questions about where she had learned to dance, and had she applied to this or that ballet company, she kept her mouth as full as possible, smiled when she could, and gave vague answers to some of their questions between bites.
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When the first guests began filtering away shortly after two o’clock, Heather used the distraction to get back into casual clothes and start helping Ginny with the dirty dishes.
Soon Corporal Do-forva was called away to drive a blind transport, so Heather got the entire dishwashing station to herself. Maria, busy keeping the serving line and appetizer trays fresh and presentable, gave the seven-year-old a smile and nod of thanks.
About three o’clock, General Bo-seklin graciously bade farewell to the remaining guests, and half an hour later, all the guards were back from transport runs.
“Security de-briefing!” Colonel Ba-kerga called.
Heather had a hunch this was coming. The large meeting room was quickly made usable again.
“First, I want to know if anyone was more interested in anything than they should have been.”
“No problems with the military people,” Major Ka-markla began, making eye contact with the lower-ranking guards to make sure. “The only thing I spotted was the visiting professors trying to find out what the program was about.”
Several others, including General Bo-seklin, nodded agreement.
“Heather?” the security chief prompted.
“Some of them tried to get my name while I was eating, but they failed.
Their curiosity was just because of my dance, so nothing to worry about from my point of view.”
“I was at the next table over,” Major Ka-markla added, “and she made good use of mouthfuls of food to change the subject a number of times.”
“I
really
was hungry!”
Everyone
chuckled.
“Maria!” the colonel yelled. “The next topic affects you!”
She hurried out of the kitchen, wiping her hands.
“No team meetings next week, so the guard schedule is very light, usually just one. Bring things to read, take classes at the air base to work on your ranks and ratings, clean your cat boxes . . .”
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Several people smiled.
“The officers will be in and out,” he went on, “and Major Ka-markla will call in twice a day any time she and Heather are traveling.”
The major nodded.
“Maria will leave plenty of sandwich makings and left-overs, but won’t be serving regular meals, unless we get a large safe-house group.”
“I had almost forgotten about that possibility,” Major Ma-soran admitted.
An hour later, most of the guards had gone home. The three senior officers finished some necessary paperwork, then wandered into the large meeting room. They could hear Heather and Major Ka-markla chatting with Maria in the kitchen.
“Next week may seem like we’re returning to the old days,” the general began, “when this facility was being forgotten and put out to pasture, but it’s just temporary.”
Major Ma-soran smiled. “The fresh paint and new-carpets will remind us.”
“After today, I think we finally know the score,” the colonel said, “about what we can and cannot do with Heather’s . . . gift.”
The general nodded. “We’ll use these breaks to step back and get a fresh perspective. Let’s have lunch together on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but also remember to use Heather’s weeks off for your own vacations or training.”
The three, infused with a new sense of purpose and excitement for their jobs, warmly shook hands, got their coats and briefcases, and headed downstairs to go through the exit procedure.
“Okay kids,” Maria said, surveying her brand new, and again spotless kitchen, “there’s enough left-overs from the party for most of next week, considering hardly anyone will be here. I’ll be in Monday or Tuesday to begin re-stocking.”
Heather hugged the stout lady. “Thank you, Maria. Today wouldn’t have been possible without you.”
“Thank
you for such a beautiful place to work! Money alone could not
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have brought this place back to life. Remember, I saw it before the remodeling — old and gray, and ready to crawl in a hole and stay there. It took a spark from you!”
Major Ka-markla chuckled and nodded.
Maria got her coat, and the corporal on duty descended the stairs with her.
Heather wandered into the middle of the meeting circle, lay down on her back, and gazed up at the log trusses. “We did it, Lisa.”
Major Ka-markla relaxed into a plush chair. “Was it really only a month ago we started?”
“Yeah, just a month. I guess it couldn’t have happened so quickly without
. . . you know . . . the president.”
“Yeah.”
The silence lingered, and they could hear the guard come back in from the parking garage.
“So,” the major began, “any idea what you want to do with your week off?”
“Sleep in my own bed tonight, for the first time, and get up about noon tomorrow.”
Lisa chuckled. “Knowing you, that new dance floor will be calling to you at about zero-five hundred.”
Heather laughed, still on her back.
“How was it, dancing on the floor out here today?”
“It was okay, but I could tell it was laid on solid concrete. I avoided some jumps I could have done on a better floor.”
“You really impressed them.”
“It’s nice to have something I can do in public. My contract doesn’t allow me to tell fortunes at the Psychic Fair.”
Lisa laughed. “And after you sleep in tomorrow?”
“First visit with my mother tomorrow afternoon. George has met with her twice, but she’ll still try to learn more than I can tell her.”
“I’m sure you can handle it.”
Heather nodded. “But I want you right there to temper her . . . parental authority.”
“Okay. And for the rest of the week?”
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“Hmm . . . it’s November . . . how about some sand dunes, ghost towns, hot springs, things like that?”
“Perfect this time of year!”
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Part 2: Ko-tera Three, 3667